Monday, January 25, 2010

telephone

it's always like a game of telephone when we talk.
i tell you something. you hear something else. you pass it on.
and i turn my back.
so let's start over.
speak only sentences that count.
and listen to the things that come out of our mouths.

cause it's rainy here. and there is no where i'd rather be than sitting here at my work.

a computer.

a cup of tea.

coming off of a weekend that offered me rest and peace.

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